its funny how time allows ink to dry,
after the storm of watered down colors one shade magnifies,
its funny how time allows a heart to mend,
after the chords are pulled someone assists in reattaching them,
its funny how time allows the worst to occur,
after the pain the black and blue seem as if they never were,
its funny how time ticks slow but tocks fast when in a dilemma,
after what seems to be an endless story, you live to reply to “and then what?”
its funny how time allows karma to unfold,
after the warmth returns to your body the hottest of hells seem cold.
In due time